


Polite

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Drabble, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-31
Updated: 2003-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-10 18:17:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11132202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Politeness really counts. . .





	Polite

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Polite

## Polite

by Doll

Disclaimer: 

Author's Notes: This was my response to the livejournal ds_flashfiction Courtesy Challenge, which was: "The show used the line several times: "It only takes an extra second to be courteous." Now it's your turn. Write a story which features or turns upon an act of courtesy, or features the famous line itself."   


Story Notes: 

* * *

"You know, Ray, it only takes an extra-" 

"You finish that sentence, Fraser, and so help me God I'll find a way to damage you, I _swear_ I will!" 

"You see, Ray, that proves my very point." 

"Oh, really?" 

"Yes, indeed. If you had politely requested that I stop speaking, then I would have quieted without feeling this sense of resentment." 

"Resentment? You want to talk about resentment? How about I resent the hell out of your ass, huh, how about that?" 

"Oh, now that's just silly, Ray." 

"Silly? Silly? In case it escaped your notice, Fraser, I am hanging from a fucking meat hook here! You, too!" 

"Language, Ray." 

"Language, my ass! I am hanging from a _meat hook!_ There is a _meat hook_ through the back of my shirt! I am hanging twelve feet off a concrete floor from a _meat hook!_ " 

"Unlike Dief, there is nothing wrong with my hearing, Ray. You have no need to shout. And it is hardly my fault-" 

"Oh, you're right about that, Frase, it's not hardly your fault, it's _entirely_ your fault! Who said 'We're young and fit; we can let that gentlemen have the taxi and we'll walk', huh? Who said that?" 

"He was quite elde-" 

And who was it that said 'Pardon me, Miss, but would you mind if I carried some of those bags for you? They look quite heavy', huh? It sure as hell wasn't me!" 

"Well, if you're gone to take that tone, Ray-" 

"And what person --and he was wearing Mountie red, so I'll give you three guesses-- what person was it carried three grocery bags of _cocaine_ into the warehouse and gave them to the fucking drug dealers? Ringing any bells here?" 

"Ah. Well, in retrospect that was not perhaps the wisest-" 

"Just shut up, Fraser, okay? I don't want to hear courtesy or politeness or anything but 'Yes, Ray; you're so right, Ray' coming out of your mouth." 

"Ray, that's completely unreas-" 

"Shut it, shut it, shut it!" 

"Would the both of you just shut the fuck up?" Ray and Fraser looked down at the lone criminal left to guard them, his eyes squinched tight in pain. 

He glared up at them. "I've got one bitch of a headache, and your constant jibber-jabber is not helping." 

Ray glared right back at him. "I hope it hurts like hell. I hope your head explodes and covers the room in your brains. I hope that-" 

"Ray! Let me handle this!" Fraser hissed. He smiled down at the criminal. "Have you tried deep breathing? I've often found that extra oxygen to the brain is very effective against headaches." Fraser paused for a moment, obviously thinking. "Along with a judicious application of acetaminophen, of course." 

The criminal covered his face with his hands and sighed deeply. After a moment, he dropped his hands and looked up at them. "If I let you go, will you two go away, and never, ever talk to me again?" he asked rather plaintively. 

Fraser smiled brightly. "That would be very kind of you. Thank you so much." Ray, blessedly, remained silent. 

The criminal used the winch to lower Ray and Fraser to the floor. As soon as they had pulled free from the hooks, Ray walked over to the criminal and stuck out his hand. 

"Thank you kindly," Ray said, grinning. Then he punched the criminal in the throat with his left hand. As he leaned over the choking man, cuffing his arms behind him, Ray looked over his shoulder at Fraser and said, "Well, hey. Maybe there's something to this courtesy thing after all." 

Fraser bit his tongue and didn't say anything at all. Sometimes silence was the deepest form of courtesy. 

* * *

End Polite by Doll:

Author and story notes above.


End file.
